


A Sugar Spun Story

by Ryuchu



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuchu/pseuds/Ryuchu
Summary: Master is dead. The atelier is functional. I am falling in love. [Written for the Sapphic Sweets Zine]
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Sugar Spun Story

**March 18th**

Master is dead. Master has given me my final order to take care of the atelier. The same order was given to the other homunculus. It is carrying out its orders. I will carry mine out as well. Master once told me these logs are important to the atelier. The other homunculus can not write. I will continue to write these logs. I will take care of the atelier. The atelier is functional.

* * *

**March 23rd**

It is warm today. I do not feel temperature. I only know it is warm because the other homunculus is melting. Its body is blown sugar. Its hair is cotton candy. It is melting. My body is black licorice. My hair is red licorice. I have a higher melting point. I am not melting. When Master was alive he made tools to keep the atelier cool. It would not melt. I know the recipe for them. I have not been ordered to make them. I will not. It keeps melting. The atelier is functional.

* * *

**April 5th**

I read a book today. It is a picture book. Master’s granddaughter used to visit every year in the summer. He always prepared many picture books for her. Master is dead so I do not believe she will visit this year. When I was created, I was not taught how to read or write. Nor was I given a voice. All of these things Master deemed unnecessary. Master’s granddaughter told me she found this boring. She wanted to talk with me. One summer she taught me to read and write. She would ask me questions and I would write my responses. I never told Master. She ordered me not to. When he created the other homunculus, Master’s granddaughter requested she have a voice. I must have been boring. The picture book I read today was one of her favorites. It was about a princess locked in a tower who is rescued by a prince. They live happily ever after. She always liked happily ever afters. Reading does not help to maintain the atelier. I will stop. It continues to melt. The atelier is functional.

* * *

**April 26th**

There are many ants in the atelier. It is because the other homunculus is melting. It tries to clean up after itself, but it is not fast enough. Before it cleans up one mess, another appears. The atelier is now very sticky. Master ordered me to upkeep the atelier. To achieve that goal, I must keep it clean. Having ants means the atelier is not clean. I will help to clean up after its melting.

The atelier is functional.

* * *

**April 27th**

I began cleaning up after the other homunculus every time it starts to melt. The atelier is much cleaner now. The other homunculus thanks me each time I clean up one of its messes. This is the first time I have been thanked for my work. I should not be thanked. I am simply carrying out an order. Master’s last order.

The atelier is functional.

* * *

**June 2nd**

It is summer now and it is much hotter. Both the other homunculus and I are melting. We cannot keep up with the cleaning. We get no work done. We are always cleaning in circles. Me cleaning up after it; it cleaning up after me.

We are not maintaining the atelier properly. Master has not ordered me to make the tools for cooling the atelier, so I should not make them. But if we keep melting, the atelier will fall into disrepair. That would be directly disobeying an order. I will make the tools. It is melting. I am melting.

The atelier is functional, but it is in danger of no longer being so.

* * *

**June 8th**

I finished making the tools and setting them up around the atelier. It is now noticeably cooler. I stopped melting first, then the other homunculus. Now that we are no longer melting, we are better able to maintain the atelier. We will be better able to carry out Master’s last order.

The other homunculus did something strange. It was cleaning when suddenly it stopped in front of one of the cooling tools - a fan. I cannot explain why, but I stopped my task as well to watch it. After standing there for ten seconds, it let out what a human would call a “sigh”. There is no reason for homunculus to sigh. I wonder if it is defective. I do not have the means to fix it. I hope this will not interfere with carrying out the master’s final orders.

The atelier is functional.

* * *

**June 30th**

The other homunculus was reading today. I was not aware that it knew how to read. I was supposed to be cleaning, but thanks to the cooling tools, there is much less work to upkeep the atelier and I have sudden empty time.

I watched it instead of cleaning. It did not notice me standing there. It was reading the same book I had been reading. The one about a princess and a prince that Master’s granddaughter loved so much. It kept making noises, but not saying any words. It knows how to speak. I have heard it talk before. But the noises it made were like those of a bird. Twittering. Chirping.

I do not know what it means. Birds make those noises to communicate and attract a mate. The noises serve a function. It making these noises do not. It also smiled. Its teeth are made of rock sugar.

Homunculi do not require unnecessary functions. The only reason it can talk is because Master’s granddaughter requested it. Why does it smile? Why does it make noises that do not communicate anything? Why?

The atelier is functional.

* * *

**July 5th**

It was reading again today.

The atelier was clean, the atelier was functional. There was nothing else for the two of us to do. In the past, Master would provide us with new tasks, but he is dead. Now when we have nothing to do, the other homunculus reads and I watch. Today, it finally noticed me watching. It smiled. Then it started speaking.

“Have you read this book before, Dolly?”

The word at the end was what Master’s granddaughter called me. A name. I informed her I had no name and she decided to give me one. Master told her to stop treating his alchemical tool like a puppy. She stuck out her tongue at Master before turning to me and informing me my name is Dolly. I do not need a name. I do not need the other homunculus to speak to me. 

I turned away from it and cleaned an area that was already clean. It said “Dolly” one more time and when I did not respond, it sighed. There is no reason for it to do that. It does not have lungs. It is made of sugar. Ultimately, it is a lump of sugar granted false life. The same as me. Sighing will not help maintain the atelier. I do not understand why it pretends to be human. I must work harder to focus on my cleaning.

The atelier is functional, but I fear the other homunculus may not be.

* * *

**July 10th**

A mouse slipped into the atelier. It is fast, evading all my attempts to catch it thus far. I will simply have to try harder. The atelier cannot be clean if there is a mouse.

It managed to get into the atelier because the other homunculus is not doing its duty properly. It takes many chances to read books or stand in front of the fan, letting the wind blow its cotton candy hair, even when there is still cleaning to do in the atelier. 

When the mouse scampered around the other homunculus’ feet, it did not swat at it with the broom it held. That would be the proper thing to do. We need to get rid of the mouse to maintain the atelier. Insead, it held still and looked at the mouse, almost as if it were examining it, fascinated by it.

The mouse approached the other homunculus’ feet and began nibbling at its sugar ankles. The homunculus giggled.

It was the same twittering sound it made while reading a while ago. It is a sound that should not come from homunculi. And yet...it was not unpleasant. Comparing its noises to a bird were accurate. People would not be opposed to hearing more bird song; I would not be opposed to hearing more of its laughter. A canary made of spun sugar. 

I swatted at the mouse and shooed it away.

The atelier is functional, but I fear the other homunculus may not be.

* * *

**July 31st**

It told me today that it wants to be the princess from the stories. 

It told me its name is Fairy and she wants to be a princess.

The atelier is functional, but I know the other homunculus is not.

* * *

**August 1st**

She has taken to reading books aloud.

I did not ask her to do this, but she persists in her endeavors. She seems to enjoy sitting right in the middle of the atelier so I can hear her no matter the room I’m in. She tucks her legs underneath her, her spun sugar skirt flaring around her like a flower, and begins reading.

Some of the stories I have heard before, but others are new. I wonder where she found them. Whenever she reads, she replaces the name of the heroine with “Fairy”. Through the young women in the books, she sends herself on all kinds of adventures. One day she is fighting sky pirates, the next she is an archeologist on a life-changing dig. All of them are far, far away from the atelier and impossible for her to achieve. All of them live happily ever after.

We are here to maintain the atelier. That is the final order Master has given us. I fear that she has forgotten this. I fear that she thinks herself human. I fear what will happen when she finds out she’s not.

The atelier is functional, but I know the other homunculus is not.

* * *

**August 22nd**

The reason I have not heard some of her stories before is because she is making them up herself.

Today - as she does every day now - she plopped herself into the middle of the atelier and began reading. 

Today - as I do every day now - I tried my best to ignore her and continue my work. However, it is impossible to tune out her voice entirely. Even if you don’t actively listen to bird song, you still hear it. I just happened to glance at the cover of the book she was reading from. It was a book I knew well, had practically memorized. The tale of the princess who lived in the tower and the prince who rescued her. The story the other homunculus was telling was about the misadventures of clumsy witch Fairy and her cat familiar.

Today - as I have never done before - I stopped and listened to her story.

The atelier is functional, but I know the other homunculus is not. Fairy is.

* * *

**September 25th**

Autumn is coming and the leaves are falling.

Autumn has always been a messy and busy time at the atelier. However, with Master dead, we must turn away all customers that come seeking his help. When we open the door to these customers to explain, leaves always manage to blow in. It’s very difficult to keep the atelier free of them.

This challenge does not deter Fairy from continuing to slack on her duties. She sits in the middle of the floor, spinning stories and getting leaves stuck in her skirt. Most of the sugar threads are now obscured by colorful reds and golds. It’s a skirt of leaves. She is part of the atelier and should work to upkeep herself better.

The atelier is functional, but I know Fairy is not.

* * *

**October 3rd**

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Today, I tried to tidy up Fairy. She is part of the atelier, so she must be clean. There are too many leaves sticking to her. She is more leaves than sugar. I had to clean her to maintain the atelier. I tried to take a leaf from her hair, licorice fingers wrapping up in cotton candy hair.

Then she looked at me. Her eyes were curious, wandering, questioning. Everything a homunculus like her should not be. Nothing we were designed to be. She was more Fairy, the clumsy witch, than the sugar homunculus carrying out the final task set forth by Master. She placed her hand in my hair, blown sugar wrapping around licorice strands.

I shot back. There wasn’t a reason for that. I needed to clean the atelier. Fairy is part of the atelier. She needs to be cleared of leaves. If she won’t do it herself, then it’s my duty. Every time I think of cleaning her up, I remember her eyes and I can’t. I can’t do the task Master set forth for me. Fairy prevents me from doing my duty.

The atelier is still functional, but I...I’m…

* * *

**October 6th**

I’m broken. I can’t carry out the orders Master gave me. I can’t do what I was ordered to do. All I can think about is Fairy and her eyes. Curiosity, wandering, questioning. So human. So very, very human. She’s beautiful. Her body is like crystal, her hair is like silk, her voice is like bird song, her eyes are like stars, her smile is like diamonds. I try to clean, but when Fairy sits on the floor and starts reading, I stop. I sit next to her. I listen. She always glances at me when I sit down. She smiles. Why do I smile back? Homunculi aren’t supposed to be like this. We aren’t supposed to be like this. But I stop and I listen and I don’t want to stop listening. 

* * *

**October 9th**

Fairy wants to be a princess; I want to be her prince.

* * *

**October 17th**

Fairy held my hand today. She would not let go through the entire story. She looked at the book as if she were reading it, but the story she was spinning was her own. I do not remember what the story was about. I could only think of her hand in mine. Black licorice intertwined with blown sugar. Her hands seemed so delicate in comparison to my own.

The story was longer than usual, but I wish it had been even longer.

* * *

**October 20th**

Sometimes, Fairy will interrupt her story to say my name over and over. Dolly, Dolly, Dolly. She only stops when I tap gently on her hand and look at her in confusion. Then she smiles at me and continues the story as if nothing has changed. It’s cute.

* * *

**December 12th**

The first snow fell today. Even though Fairy knows it will melt her, she ran outside. She threw snow up in the air. It looked like powdered sugar. I tried to get her to come inside before she melted away, but she just kept saying my name over and over again. Dolly, Dolly, Dolly. If I wanted her to stop, I would have to tap on her hand. I would have to leave the atelier. I would have to leave Master and his order behind.

I do not regret choosing to take that step into the snow to tap, tap, tap out a rhythm on her hand. Black licorice on blown sugar.

Fairy, Fairy, Fairy.

You want to be a princess. Please let me be your prince. Let’s make our happily ever after.


End file.
